and *end scene*

All My Children and One Life to Live are not the only soap operas that have been cancelled. So has the soap opera of my relationship with St. Elmo. We are done. We are no longer going to try to make it work.

I’m actually ok. Or at least I know I will be. It hurts, I’m not going to deny that. But I am finally accepting that it’s over. Truthfully, the past month has been emotionally exhausting. I don’t know how much longer I could have sustained it. I’m tired. I’m still not eating regularly (though I am eating). I’ve stopped running because I don’t have the physical energy to run. I’m trying to keep up some activity by walking home from work (about 2 miles). The walks home also give me time to get lost in my iPod and music. Unfortunately, it also allows me lots of time to think and reflect and speculate.

A week ago tonight, we had met for the very enjoyable night at the wine bar. We were talking about giving it another shot. We were I was optimistic that it could work out. That optimism lasted for a few days. Then St. Elmo began to have doubts again. We met yesterday for lunch and spent a couple hours in Central Park talking. He simply can’t get past what he thinks are differences that can’t be worked out. Or he simply doesn’t want to try. Whatever the case, he yanked the plug and my bruised ego of being the dumpee hurts. Oh well. Shit happens. Unfortunately, shit happens to me all the friggin time, but such is my life.

*slight tangent* I just had to kill a wasp-like creature that was buzzing around my apt after it flew in through the open window. There will be NO creepy flying things in my apt! Especially, ones that can sting.

Anyways, so yeah, we are done, kaput. As much as it hurts and I hate that we are over, I am relieved that a conclusion has been reached (whether by my doing or not) because now I can move on and forward. Being in limbo for so long has definitely taken its toll on me. Thus, the chapter of that book closes. Another one bites the dust and gets filed away in the ex-boyfriend filing cabinet.

One week till my birthday (woo hoo 36! NOT) and I will begin another year on earth trying to figure out what the hell to do. Like seriously… what the hell do I do now????

You are right with both comments – We always come out for the better, no matter how shitty the break-up & I do have closure. We talked it to death…literally talked the relationship right into the grave. Yikes 😦